Zuì Qiáng Píngzhàng
by Rezicca
Summary: AU, WWII. When Wang Yao, living in rural China, takes in a severely wounded Japanese soldier, he has no idea how his decision will turn everything he thought about war and cultural barriers upside down. NiChu. I do not intend to offend.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Yes, I'm starting another story, another NiChu story, no less. **

**I wanted to talk a little bit about the plot of this story first. This is probably one of the most taboo stories I will ever write. I understand that this is a very heavy time period. Pretty much everything in this story will be very heavy. I do not mean to offend anyone and I apologize in advance.**

**Now, the plot itself. This is not entirely fiction. To make a long story short, my uncle served in Vietnam during the Vietnam war. Towards the end of the war, he met a South Vietnamese citizen who cared for a Viet Kong soldier who was fatally wounded in a bomb attack. The soldier died soon after being taken in, and the man my uncle met died soon after meeting my uncle. I remember him telling me about this and being completely blown away by it. That pretty much served as inspiration for the basic idea of this. **

**Now that we've got that done, I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for clicking on it. ^^ **

Shortly before dawn, a muffled scream pulled Yao out of sleep. Lying on his side, the man blinked several times as he tried to force himself to wake up, almost afraid to make any noise. There! Another scream broke the stillness, a cry of pain from the sounds of it. His heart pounding, Yao touched the gun that lay beside him for reassurance that it was still there. He just hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

The young man continued to listen to the sounds around him, still barely awake. It certainly didn't sound like they were being attacked again, but his fears weren't soothed.

Curiosity beginning to get the best of him, Yao grabbed the firearm and climbed out of bed. He winced as he stretched, his spare hand quickly moving to the small of his back. The attack really hadn't been too long ago, and it certainly had done a fair amount of damage. As soon as the pain subsided he grabbed his shoes and headed out of the house as quickly as he could, the firearm still gripped tightly in his right hand. He wasn't sure why he even decided to bring it along; if the area was being attacked again, it certainly wouldn't be much help.

"It's something-aru," he muttered to himself as he exited the house, glancing around uncertainly.

Despite dawn drawing near, the world outside was still very dark. A storm must be coming, Yao thought to himself as he stopped in front of his home, listening carefully for the cries. Hearing them again, he hid the gun under his clothes and hunted to the source, glancing around uncertainly to see if anyone was out. He lived on the edge of the village, far enough away from anyone else that he didn't have to worry about someone seeing him, but he didn't want to risk it.

The cries seemed to be coming from the patch of wilderness not too far away. Throwing another glance over his shoulder at the village, Yao ventured into the forest, walking carefully to stay silent. As he approached, he noticed the shouts and cries getting louder. It sounded…sounded like someone was being tortured, the Chinese man realized as he gripped the gun in his hand for reassurance.

A twig snapped nearby. Heart stopping in his chest, Yao turned immediately to where the crack had come from and drew the gun, pointing it in the direction of the sound. He scarcely dared to breathe as he continued to grip the gun with shaking hands. Another twig snapped and a small bundle of white fur toddled past him, over the dirt path and into the brush to the man's right. He lowered the gun in relief. It was merely a panda cub, he realized with a heavy sigh, brushing his dark hair back.

Perhaps the panda had been responsible for the sounds he had mistaken for human cries of pain, Yao tried to tell himself. It wasn't exactly unlikely, after all. But he couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere a human was in pain.

A tortured, muffled scream cut through the silence of the forest, startling the Chinese man. No, there certainly was a human somewhere, Yao realized, cocking the gun before continuing to where he thought the cries were coming from.

Stopping by a thick tree, he brushed several loose strands of hair back while carefully scanning over the area, his eyes stopping at what appeared to be a clearing not too far away. Frowning as another cry of pain sounded from that direction, he began to cautiously approach the area, the firearm in his hand still held at the ready.

Drawing near the clearing, Yao almost dropped the gun when he was suddenly able to make out several voices. There had to have been at least three people in the clearing, or at least, three that he could hear, not including whoever was in pain.

The leaves of the trees rustled as someone ran past, shouting at whoever was with him. As a gust of wind blew past him, Yao instinctively dropped to the ground, crouching behind a thick, fallen tree trunk.

The speakers were hurling vicious insults at someone, accompanied with laughter and…yes, he heard it again, more muffled cries in-

In Japanese!

Yao shrank against the log, still gripping the gun tightly. Despite speaking only some Japanese, he had no difficulty recognizing the language. He certainly had heard enough of the language in the past year to recognize it with ease. This speaker sounded…scared, terrified. But it didn't sound as if he were begging or trying to negotiate, the Chinese quickly realized, trying to listen for anything he could understand.

The others had begun to speak again, to themselves this time. Yao could barely make out the words, but the sound of someone cocking a gun was all he needed to hear; they were going kill, more than likely the Japanese man. Frowning, he looked up at the sky through the trees, watching as it slowly became less and less dark with the coming sun. What did it matter if they killed the Japanese? He was probably a soldier, a murderer. He waited in the dark for the sound that would be proof that the man had been killed.

The gunshot never came.

"He'll be dead soon enough. Not worth wasting a bullet on," one of the harsher voices said. The sounds of feet pounding against hard dirt soon reached Yao's ears, and he instinctively pressed himself closer to the ground and the trunk of the fallen tree, praying that it was too dark for them to see him if they happened to come this way.

He saw their boots through the tall, overgrown grass and bamboo shoots as they ran past him, counting five pairs of running legs in total. The Japanese soldier didn't even have a chance, he thought, sighing as he stretched once they had long gone.

Like they hadn't had a chance, a voice in his head whispered bitterly as his back began to throb again. Yao shook the thought out of his mind as he moved to head back towards the village.

Something pulled him back, kept his feet glued to the hard, cold ground. They said that the soldier would be dead soon, right? So there was a chance that he was still alive.

A series of rapid, forced coughs from the clearing quickly confirmed that notion.

Yao sighed, turning to the clearing and frowning. The idea of leaving someone to die in the forest left him feeling almost…guilty. Sighing, he hid the firearm under his clothes and ran a hand through his loose hair, almost wishing he had tied it back, before venturing into the clearing.

He spotted the Japanese soldier immediately not too far away. Frowning, Yao cautiously approached him, kneeling by the man's side.

He looked remarkably young, barely even an adult, with shockingly pale skin that contrasted sharply with raven-colored bangs that obscured the top half of his face. The young soldier was covered in blood, which stained the ground beneath him, and patches of skin which were swollen and beginning to bruise.

"What did they do to you-aru?" Yao sighed with mixed emotions, gently brushing the soldier's dark bangs back, revealing slightly open, swollen eyes that met his with surprising ferocity before closing. So he was still alive, barely by the looks of it.

Perhaps he should…

"No," Yao told himself, already knowing where his mind was headed. He couldn't possibly…an enemy soldier nonetheless! A murderer, he could have killed anyone, he could have been the one who killed…

"Stop it-aru," he sighed again, nervously running a hand through his long hair. Mei would kill him. If anyone in the village found out, he would be killed.

But at the same time, he couldn't stand the idea of leaving such a young soldier, even if he was an enemy, to die on the hard, cold ground in the forest.

"What am I doing?" He frowned again at the unconscious Japanese soldier, his mind already made up. With a cautious glance to the slowly brightening sky above, he gently lifted the soldier off the ground, holding the young man tightly as he glanced around again and hurried to his home on the edge of the forest.

**Thanks for reading! Please, reviews are love?**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Oh, thank you so so so much to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. I can't even begin to tell you how happy I was that people actually enjoyed reading it and wanted another chapter. **

**Here's the next chapter, as promised. Warning, a bit heavy, as usual. This warning will be at the beginning of every chapter. **

**No offense intended towards anyone. **

Yao wondered how accurate the soldiers had been about the young Japanese dying soon. It certainly seemed like there was very little chance of the boy waking up. It was almost frustrating to Yao, for there was so little he could do other than bandage what looked like multiple knife wounds.

_Why are you doing this?_ A voice in the back of his head asked again and again. Yao sighed and leaned against the wall, watching the unconscious soldier, the unconscious _enem_ysoldier for any signs that the man was regaining consciousness. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure. Every time he looked at the boy, he was overcome with mixed emotions, guilt and loathing perhaps the most prominent.

But in all honesty, he didn't really feel like he hated the Japanese soldier. In fact, he felt more…protective than anything else. Why protective? What did it matter if this soldier died? What did it matter if all of them died? They were murderers. Monsters. Beasts. And the boy, he was one of them too! Japanese! He wouldn't hesitate in trying to kill Yao once he regained consciousness.

Or at least, that's what he tried to tell himself. _You're too soft,_ Mei had always said.

"I'm sorry for this-aru," the young man sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ears.

He continued watching the boy, in awe at how…_vulnerable_ the Japanese looked while unconscious, probably a huge contrast from how he would look when awake, well, if he ever woke. In fact, with shockingly pale skin and raven-black hair that fell into the eyes, the soldier was almost…beautiful.

_No,_ Yao scolded himself, quickly looking away, _Women are beautiful. Men are not beautiful._ Frowning, Yao turned from the boy and moved to leave the room. He needed air, sunlight, anything.

Outside, the village was alive. People were shuffling about, some congregating with one another. They all looked as if they were carrying heavy weights on their shoulders, slumped over from fear and the constant exhaustion that came from always expecting more attacks. They glanced uncertainly at the overcast sky above, and Yao found himself doing the same out of habit. There was always the chance that Japanese planes would fly overhead and try bombing the area. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Slumping his shoulders forward, Yao turned and headed back into his house, hoping desperately that no one would be interested in speaking with him today. He was far too preoccupied at the moment with trying to organize his thoughts and feelings.

Tea, he needed tea. Something strong, he obviously wasn't thinking clearly enough. There was a Japanese soldier in his home! A Japanese soldier he should have killed immediately.

Yao sighed and leaned against the wall, just feeling emotionally hungover. Guilt, so much guilt. By saving this boy, he was already lighting the fires to cremate the bodies of the villagers. This soldier could get them all killed. That was what the Japanese wanted, right? All the Chinese dead, their land, their resources. Brushing his dark hair back, the young man slid down the wall and onto the floor, burying his head in his hands.

He felt sick. The idea of leaving the Japanese soldier to die in the forest, in a foreign country so far from his home, had made him sick. The idea of killing him while he was unconscious also made him feel ill. Maybe the boy would die. Hopefully he would die.

But even that possible outcome left Yao feeling as if a cold hand were gripping his heart. The boy, somewhere in the back of his mind, Yao wanted him to wake up. Those dark, fierce eyes that looked almost so familiar, how they had pierced his own topaz…

The Chinese slid down the wall to the floor, burying his face in his knees. What was he supposed to do now? This was a situation he couldn't get out of, couldn't win no matter the outcome. Using two fingers and a thumb, he formed a gun with his hand and pressed it to his head. Maybe he should have died a while ago.

Yao sighed and stretched against the wall, wincing as his spine stung in protest. Maybe it would be better to simply take this problem of his one day at a time. He could come up with a plan once it became clear whether the Japanese soldier would live or die.

A series of choked coughs sounded from the next room. The young man looked up in alarm, panic beginning to spread through his body. _No, no, no, no. _It would appear that he would need to come with a plan sooner rather than later.

Anxiously running a hand through his hair, Yao climbed to his feet and leaned against the wall, trying to think of something, anything. There was something, there had to be something he could do, something that would open up a pathway for him so he could get out of this stupid situation he had landed himself in.

The soldier was Japanese. He would kill Yao the first chance he got. _Not if I kill him first-aru_, a voice in the back of his mind whispered. The young man narrowed his eyes, the path slowly beginning to reveal itself. It was the only option he had, the only path leading out of this dreadful, stupid situation.

Grabbing the firearm that sat on a nearby surface, he took a moment to hide it under his clothes before smoothing down his hair and forcing his face into what he hoped was a calm, soothing expression. Pausing to listen to another series of coughs, he began to walk silently into the next room, mind made up as he opened the heavy door.

The room was still dark and the soldier was still where he had been left. Those striking eyes weren't open at this time, much to Yao's relief, but he quickly noticed that more bruises covered the Japanese man's face and body. He certainly looked like he had been through hell. Yao faltered for a bit in the doorway, not sure if he should enter the room. A voice in the back of his head continued to urge him on, however.

As he neared the bed, the soldier's eyes snapped open and met Yao's with the same ferocity as before, before quickly filling with fear. The young Chinese stood, paralyzed as he stared back into the dark eyes of the man in front of him. A sad, cold hand seemed to grip his heart, squeezing mercilessly. He would never be able to kill this boy.

Guilt flooded through him and the golden-eyed man looked down in embarrassment and shame as he crossed his arms and subtly ran a finger down the concealed firearm. He looked back up at the soldier, trying to compose himself once again.

"H-hello," he said in what he hoped was understandable Japanese. He never really had a good accent when speaking the strange-sounding language. He took a step towards the boy with the raven-hair, frowning when the Japanese soldier shifted away. "I…will not hurt you," he added, hoping to convince the boy, and perhaps himself. "What is your…your name-aru?" He twitched as his verbal tic sounded again, hoping the boy would understand him nevertheless.

"Um…I-I'm Honda Kiku," the soldier responded in a cracked, strained voice. "W-who…?"

"Wang Yao," he quickly responded, wincing as he gave out the information. _Never tell a Japanese anything_. "You should rest-aru," Yao said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. The soldier blinked and nodded.

"Yao-san…you're Chinese, aren't…aren't you?" The golden-eyed man flinched and nodded, watching sadly as the boy began to lose consciousness once again.

"Yes, Kiku, I am-aru," he sighed, turning away from the Japanese.

**AN: Thank you for reading, once again. Please, reviews are love? Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: A huge huge huge thanks to everyone stil****l reading this, and another huge thanks to everyone who came here from Deviant Art. Also, much thanks to ****HikariKame**** for featuring this on the dA NiChu-RiZhong group. **

**Now, I'm going to apologize in advance because not much really happens in this chapter. The plot will really start rolling around the next chapter, or maybe after that. **

**The quality of this isn't amazing, and I'm sorry and will explain. I'm teaching myself the Japanese alphabet (All three of them). There is an outline for this story (and lots and lots of brainstorm written at 3 am), and it's in a combination of the Japanese alphabet, just to preserve secrecy because bleh, I'm paranoid like that. Well, I've been in a different state for the last week and needed to write…and the outline wasn't with me. Ended up having the Awesome!Father photograph the outline and send it. That outline was no help. **

**So, I had to do the best with that short time I have. AP exams are this week and I wanted to get this up before they began, since I won't be online at all. **

**Now, if you haven't been too bored by that length AN, I now present to you the third chapter. Enjoy. ^^**

Kiku didn't wake up again that day, much to Yao's relief. He needed some time to think, to plan out what he was going to do next.

His biggest concern now was what would happen if the Japanese soldier did not die. If he did die, then disposing of the body and any evidence that there had in fact been an enemy soldier in his home would be easy. Yao did live on the edge of the forest, after all.

If he did not die, then that put Yao in a tough situation, a situation that could easily get the entire village killed, depending on what the soldier's intentions were. He was Japanese; of course he would want the entire village exterminated. And suppose the others learned of the soldier's presence before his strength was regained, then Yao would be executed for betrayal, for the dishonor.

The young man sighed and took another sip of tea before throwing a cautious glance at the unconscious soldier. "Kiku," he whispered, uncomfortably trying out the foreign name. It sounded…nice.

The Japanese stirred slightly, but did not awaken. A small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Yao stretched and set down the tea. He certainly did look much different when asleep, more vulnerable, although he did not appear to a peaceful sleeper. Yes, more vulnerable when asleep, less dangerous.

Less of a brutal monster.

Yao's smile vanished as he reached for the tea cup, gripping it tightly. He wanted to scream "No", that this man was different, that he was not a murderer, not a monster like the other Japanese soldiers. But how could he do that when he himself didn't even completely believe it?

"Aiyaa," he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Next to him, Kiku was beginning to awaken, his breathing quickening as his dark eyes finally shot open and fell on Yao.

"You're awake again-aru," Yao smiled subconsciously at the younger man, despite struggling to communicate in the strange language. The Japanese met his eyes for a second, then looked away, instantly paling.

"Wh….who…?" Recognition soon replaced confusion and Kiku shut his eyes tightly. "Y-Yao-san, yes?" Yao nodded, frowning now as he watched the raven-haired soldier.

"How…um…are you?" the Chinese asked, stumbling over his words. "Do you…ugh…aru," he sighed in frustration. He could barely remember any Japanese that would be useful.

The smaller man said something that Yao couldn't pick out, his eyes still shut tightly. Biting his lip, he smoothed back his hair as he weighed his options and sighed, deciding to switch back to his native Mandarin.

"I'm sorry, I speak very little Japanese-aru. Can you-"

"I understand some, but I don't speak much. My apologies." Yao blinked, taken aback. What Kiku had said was mostly in Mandarin, although a few words were in Japanese. It sounded…nice, the way the soldier's accent blended the two languages so smoothly. At least they might be able to smoothly communicate, maybe.

"Well, it's so-"

"Are you going to kill me?" The soldier's dark eyes had snapped open once again and were meeting Yao's with the same ferocity as when their eyes first met. _He doesn't trust me,_ the Chinese quickly realized, frowning as that icy cold hand moved to squeeze his heart once again.

"No Kiku. I'm not going to kill you-aru." The soldier sighed, closing his eyes again as he leaned back, mumbling in rapid Japanese. Yao picked out one word: Please. He certainly did know that word all too well.

"You should," the raven-haired soldier hissed in Japanese, eyes still shut tightly.

"I know," he responded in Mandarin, frowning as he leaned over. Killing him, he had debated doing it since first bringing the young man to his home. He had the gun; it would be easy to do. No one would ever know that he had been there, that he had been tended to, that Yao had any part in trying to save a _Japanese_ soldier. But it would never happen, Yao realized as he watched the soldier with the shocking pale skin that contrasted sharply with his dark hair. "But I won't-aru,"

"I…kill myself…been captured…a disgrace to the Empire…must atone," Kiku muttered, moving a hand over his eyes as he choked on the foreign language, substituting with Japanese words where he could. Instinctively, Yao moved a hand to the young man's shoulder, flinching as he shied away and almost curled into a ball.

"You haven't been captured. You're safe-aru,"

"Information?"

"I'm not after any-aru,"

"You should be. You should torture me until you get the information you want and kill me. Do to me what we've done to you and your people!" Yao froze, feeling his heart begin to pound. Gunshots, were those gunsh-no, they weren't. No one was shooting at anyone. But people were screaming and there was blood and he was on his knees with cold metal pressed to his thro-

_STOP IT_, he screamed in his head, wincing as he clenched and unclenched his fist. He was in his home, speaking to a wounded Japanese soldier. There was no gunfire, no screams, no blood. Instinctively, he reached up a hand to rub his neck. No cold metal there either.

"I won't do that, Kiku," he sighed in Japanese, running a hand anxiously through his hair as he struggled to steady his breathing. "They've already done that, haven't they-aru?" Kiku moved his hand away from his eyes, watching Yao, although he said nothing. "I found you-aru. They had beaten you half to death. I brought you back here. Be grateful-aru," he finished, a small smile forming on his lips, which was surprisingly returned by the Japanese once he had uncovered his eyes.

"Domo arigato, Yao-san. [Thank you]" Kiku sighed, moving to sit up before promptly being pushed back down by Yao.

"No. You rest. It was a lot of work bandaging up your stab wounds. I don't want you reopening them-aru," the young man commanded in a combination of Mandarin and Japanese. It was awkward, but seemed to be simpler for the two of them to understand. The dark-haired soldier nodded, his dark eyes slowly closing.

Yao looked over at the small window in the corner, frowning when he noticed how dark the sky was growing. The storm would be coming soon, perhaps that night, and he needed to pick up supplies to prepare for it. Sighing, he stood, throwing an uncertain glance at the Japanese. It wouldn't be his smartest idea to leave now, but he had to.

"Uh…Kiku? I need to take care of something-aru…but I'll be back soon!" He winced as he waited for the younger man's response, sighing in relief when it didn't come; the young man had gone to sleep again. That would certainly make things easier. Cautiously, he approached the resting soldier, reaching out a trembling hand to gently brush his raven bangs back. "I hope you're still here when I get back-aru," he mumbled, feeling guilty almost instantly.

He should be cursing the soldier, praying that he and his people suffer as Yao and his people suffered. Yao blinked and looked away, running a hand through his hair as he turned to leave the room. No, he didn't want to think about that, not now.

**AN: Thank you for reading this! It certainly means a lot that people are enjoying it. If you have any time, please leave a review and tell me what you thought. Compliments, criticisms, historical corrections, language corrections, anything, all welcome. **

**Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I'm alive! With a really really short and probably poorly written chapter. My most sincere apologies. Wow. School was insane. The AP Exams were insane. But I survived. Still not sure how though. Only a few more weeks left. **

**Alright, this chapter. I'm going to be disappointing some people. The next chapter (would love to be up sometime this week, maybe not) is where the plot will actually get going. Hopefully. I need to re-plan everything. **

**There's a smutty one-shot I promised…there's still time to vote on the couple since it hasn't really been written yet. That will be up by the end of the month. Maybe. **

**Also, my friend and I are currently doing a horror roleplay with USUK and Spamano. We've got over 66,000 words so far. If we touched it up a bit, would anyone be interested in reading it? Just wondering. XD**

**Anyways. I now present to you the fourth chapter. And I apologize now for what I have done and what I will do to Yao. **

Sighing tiredly, Yao quietly opened the door to let himself inside, instantly slumping against the cool wall in an attempt to soothe his throbbing back. He hadn't been expected, of course, he understood that. But they should have expected him. After all, he did have more information than anyone else.

"They must not trust me anymore…aiyaa," the young man sighed, examining the crooked fingers on his left hand. But he didn't blame them. He wasn't so sure that he could even be trusted.

Stretching against the wall, Yao sighed again before moving into the next room. In the far corner, Kiku was still sleeping. The young man crossed his arms and cautiously approached the soldier. He certainly looked better now than he had a few hours ago. Some color had returned to his shockingly pale face and he slept more or less peacefully. The Chinese reached out a hand to gently brush the young man's raven-colored bangs back, marveling at how _beautiful_ the enemy soldier was.

Silently scolding himself, he sunk to the ground and leaned against the wall, wincing as he straightened up.

"You're certainly a strange one-aru," Yao muttered to the sleeping soldier as he let his eyes close. "I haven't had anyone here in a while, not since…" the young man sighed and let his voice trail off, deciding not to finish the sentence. "Maybe I'll like having you around. If you don't try to kill me, that is-aru. But I don't think you would. For now."

Sighing, he stole another cautious glance at Kiku's sleeping form before allowing his own golden eyes to close.

_He was in a windowless room so dark he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He could hear the breathing of the two people in the room with him. Were there two? Yes, of course there were. He could hear their voices now. They spoke quietly to one another, in barely audible whispers as if they feared being heard. He could hear one shifting and the voices immediately fell quiet._

_"This is your fault," one of the voices whispered to Yao. Before the young man could say something back, the sounds of heavy boots reached his ears. He felt the atmosphere turn to one of cold fear and could hear a desperate struggle before everything fell quiet. A bright light flashed on, illuminating the room._

_He was still in the windowless room, trying to comfort the man beside him. Blood, there was so much blood. It stained the dirt and his hands and their clothes._

_"Y-you'll be al-alright," he kept whispering in a shaky voice. No, no, no. This was all so wrong. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. The other man's pale, dirt streaked face turned into Kiku's face. As his eyes opened, Yao was met with sinister black eyes that seemed to smirk at Yao's trembling hands and shaking voice._

_There was the sound of a gun going off and two pairs of strong arms grabbed hold of him, one large hand moving to squeeze his throat while above he could just barely make out a dark figure holding a wickedly sharp sword over him._

Yao felt himself hit the ground and his eyes snapped open. Where was…he was home, yes, he was home. There was nothing.

"I just fell asleep," he muttered to himself, trying to shake off the terror that threatened to suffocate him. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and wave of nausea hit him, almost sending the Chinese back to the ground. Trembling, he headed out of the dark room as fast as his legs would carry him, turning instantly to leave the house.

He barely made it out before he collapsed.

Yao curled into a ball on the ground, ignoring the searing pain in his back from this position. That…that had definitely happened, he could remember it all so vividly. He squinted open his eyes and looked up and down his hands. No blood. Good. Just the same nine fingers. _Nine…_

Shuddering from the pain, he sat up and hunched over to bury his face in his hands. Nine fingers. He should have ten.

And there should be five more men than there were.

He shuddered again, gritting his teeth as a sob ripped through his throat. Maybe he had been wrong about not shooting the Japanese soldier, Yao thought as he tried to blink away hot tears that threatened to spill. Maybe they should all suffer and die. He could see himself in his mind's eye heading to the young man's side, pressing the gun against his head, and pulling the trigger. It's not like this would be his first time shooting someone, after all.

A wave of nausea washed over Yao at the thought. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to think of anything else. The cold air, the dark sky, dirt, pandas, cooking. Anything.

After a few minutes, the nausea subsided and Yao was able to climb to his feet and head back to his house, silently cursing himself. How many more times was this going to happen? He felt his back crack as he let himself inside, almost as if in response. It probably wasn't going to just go away, and he was a fool for hoping that maybe it would.

**AN: Hope everyone enjoyed it. Sorry again for the length and lack of action. Nevertheless, please review, let me know what you think, what you like and dislike? Reviews keep me going. 3 Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hah! Finally updating! I haven't posted anything since the AP exams. Sorry about that. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, and thanks to everyone who is still sticking with this story. It really means a lot to me to know that you guys are enjoying this. ^^ Anyways, here's the next chapter. It's not a huge ploty chapter, but I hope it makes up a little for the long wait. Thanks again!**

The rest of the night passed without incident, and morning found Yao digging around in the cellar for any spare scraps of wood. It indeed was monsoon season, and his home probably wouldn't have much of a chance of survival unless he made a few much-needed repairs. Last season certainly hadn't done many favors for his roof, and it seemed like this season would be just the same.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much useable wood, he realized with a sigh and grabbed an old-looking hammer and a plank, then climbed out of the cellar. Staring up at ceiling, he knew instantly where to begin, also knowing he probably wouldn't have enough wood to repair everything.

Yao tried to lose himself in the mindless work, but he found that he was unable to. He couldn't shake the nightmare he had the previous night, no matter how hard he tried. He often had dreams like that, but this one had been worse.

Everything seemed to be getting worse, he thought bitterly. Not just the dreams but…everything.

Yao immediately scolded himself for being so melancholic. If the dreams were a problem, then he could handle the dreams. Or at least, he hoped so.

A resounding _clang_ echoed through the small room as the young man turned his mind away from the dreams and back to the work at hand. He swung again, and another satisfying _clang_ sounded again, and again, and again, until Yao lost himself in the tedious motions.

_Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang._

Again and again the sounds rang out, repetitive, loud. The vibrations from the hammer meeting nail continued to travel up his arm. In the back of his mind, he swore he heard a gun going off and there was a bright flash and someone was screaming-

Yao looked up sharply, jerking his hand back when he felt the hammer fall from his grip and onto the floor with a loud _crash_. A wave of nausea washed over the young man and he swayed slightly before firmly gripping the wall to regain his balance.

"Yao-san?" Out of the corner of his eye, the young man saw Kiku cautiously enter the room. Frowning, Yao released the wall and knelt to retrieve the dropped harmer. The Japanese soldier certainly looked better, he thought to himself. Some color had returned to his face and the swelling appeared to have gone down slightly, although the bruises were far more noticeable. Yao frowned and stood again, almost…happy because he was awake again.

"Kiku! How are you feeling-aru?" Yao asked the young man, flashing a quick smile as he turned the hammer in his hands nervously.

"Better. Doumo-arigato, Yao-san," he answered quietly, bowing politely. Doumo-arigato meant thank you, Yao remembered. Or at least, it was something like that. "Are…are you well?" He noticed Kiku's eyes wander briefly over to his hands. Instinctively, Yao crossed his arms.

"Oh, uh, yes-aru. Thank you," the Chinese responded, almost nervously, and turned back to the repairs he had been making. He felt somewhat uneasy around the soldier, although he tried to talk himself out of the slowly growing paranoia. He didn't think Kiku would actually do anything, but at the same time, he didn't completely trust the young man either.

_You shouldn't trust him at all_, a small voice in the back of his mind scolded. _Mei would agree_, he thought with a sigh and twitched involuntarily, losing his grip on the hammer which fell to the floor with a loud _crash_.

"Here," Kiku knelt to the floor to retrieve the hammer and handed it to Yao, who took it uncertainly.

"Er, thanks-aru," he responded, holding the tool awkwardly. Despite the dark bruises and somewhat swollen cheeks, the soldier was really quite…attractive, Yao observed, with almost-black hair and pale skin and eyes that just seemed to be looking right through him. Feeling almost embarrassed, he quickly turned his back to the young man and pretended to be absorbed in the repairs, running two fingers over the old wood of the wall as he shifted around for another nail.

"What are you…um…"

"Hm?" Yao looked over his shoulder at the young man, who looked as if he were trying to remember something, dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"With the…with the tool? I apologize. This language…I can't…" He continued to look at the soldier with a raised eyebrow in confusion, until he understood.

"Oh! What am I doing-aru?" The Japanese nodded, looking almost apologetic. _His Mandarin must not be any better than my Japanese_, Yao thought to himself. "Monsoon season is coming quickly. I thought it would be wise to fix some things around here before the rains come-aru." He flashed another quick smile at the young man, who was frowning as if he were confused. Wincing, Yao repeated himself, although he tried to use as much Japanese as he could. It certainly was a confusing, strange language, he thought to himself, preferring his native own tongue.

"Oh. Do you need, er, help, Yao-san?" The young man asked. He was speaking to Yao primarily in Mandarin, which the latter greatly appreciated. He had never understood spoken Japanese too well, and Kiku's accent made Mandarin sound almost…poetic, rather than awkward or forced.

"Huh? Um…" Yao's lips pulled up in a quick smile. "Sure! Thanks-aru. Oh, um," he took a second to remember what that was in Japanese, "Arigato?" He winced at the sound, knowing that his pronunciation couldn't even be close to correct.

It appeared that he was correct about that, judging from the soft chuckles that followed.

"It couldn't have been that bad," he sighed with a slight smile, passing the Japanese a few rusty nails.

"It wasn't, I'm sorry." Although the faint traces of a smile still remained.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Finally updating again! I apologize for the wait. I'm really so sorry. This chapter was surprisingly difficult to write. It's about five in the morning now. I ended up scrapping the original idea and this chapter was born while listening to Paramore. I hope it turned out well, and thank you to everyone who is reading. **

**By the way, AnimeExpo, Los Angeles, last weekend. Who went? I went with a pretty awesome group of friends and happened to be the England in the Russia/America/England love-triangle group. **

**Anyways, back on task, thank you for clicking the link, and thank you for reading this far. The romance plot will probably be picking up from here on out. **

**And as always, I do not intend to offend. The subject matter is extremely dark, and I hope I did it justice. **

_It was dark, and the air was moist from the recent rain. It smelled nice, refreshing, almost like a completely different world, a different country._

_A different war._

_"We'll do one more sweep for stragglers here," Yao squinted at a quickly drawn map and outlined a circle region near the Yangzte river, "And then we'll head back to the base." He looked around at the faces of the men around him, tired and dirt smeared, all of them._

_A single shot sliced through the silence and at once they were ready for battle, their guns at the ready. A plane of some sort flew overhead, and the boom of a nearby explosion violently shook the ground. Yao exchanged a quick glance with the taller man next to him, and another shot was fired from not too far away. He turned quickly to face the sound, squinting to make out anything in the darkness._

_There was almost a complete minute of absolute silence, before a wave of gunfire swept across the area, and silence descended again. Out of the corner of his eye, Yao saw two of his men lying face-down on the ground, having been shot and killed. He didn't need to check to know they were dead._

_"Retreat," he mumbled, almost in shock, taking a step back from where the shots were coming from. They were too small a group and weren't prepared for one on one combat like this. Better to escape with their lives than to die pathetically here. The gunfire began again, striking the dirt at their feet. "RETREAT!" he shouted, firing several shots in the distance before following his men, most of whom had turned heel and fled by this point._

_The gunfire followed them as they fled, pushing back the bamboo of the forest as they tried to seek refuge in the trees. The second Yao stepped foot in the darkness, he was tackled to the ground and held down while the barrel of a gun was pressed against the back of his head. He froze, everything turning on its side, scarcely able to breathe. The sounds of grunts and cries told him that the other men were suffering a similar fate. Without warning, a fist seized his hair and yanked him off the ground. Several feet away, he heard a hoarse scream and saw a silver glint, followed by a horrible gasping and choking sound._

_A cry of realization caught in Yao's throat as he began to struggle to free himself. The butt of a gun collided neatly with the side of his head and he stood dazed while several shots rang out not too far away and he heard the slumping of bodies falling to the ground._

_Someone was screaming and he found himself struggling before being forced to the ground as a sharp pain began to shoot up his hand._

_"Yao-san!"_

Yao jolted up, blinking in the darkness. He panted as if he had just ran two miles and curled up slightly, flinching as his hands came into contact with his wet cheeks. A strangled sob left his lips as a hand cautiously gripped his shoulder, and he flung himself at Kiku, clinging to him like a drowning man clings to a life ring. He shook with silent sobs and buried his face in the man's shoulder, bringing them both to the floor.

"Yao-san?" He barely registered Kiku's voice at this point, and couldn't respond, the only sounds coming from his mouth being sharp gasps and stifled sobs. Yao continued to cling, oblivious to everything around him as the horrible images replayed themselves again and again in his mind. Thin, but muscular arms wrapped around him, holding him fast. He continued to tremble but relaxed ever so slightly, losing consciousness soon afterward.

* * *

><p>Yao awoke several hours of later, the previous night being nothing but a scarcely-remembered blur. A cold breeze swept through the house, and he involuntarily shivered closer to something that felt incredibly warm. He opened his eyes and instantly shifted back, wincing as he moved into the wall a bit harder than he had intended. Kiku watched him with dark, expressionless eyes, then looked down to his hands. Almost immediately, vivid memories of the previous night flooded his mind. The dream, waking up, falling to the floor...<p>

The young man bit his lip and pulled his knees up to his chest, shutting his eyes tightly in embarrassment. He felt Kiku sidle up next to him and curled into an even tighter ball, letting his hair fall into his face.

"I'm sorry-aru," he mumbled in Japanese, instinctively switching back to his native language. He stole a quick glance at Kiku, then looked away again.

"What happened, your hands?" Yao flinched and examined his hands, sighing when the first things he saw were the crooked fingers.

"I don't want to talk about it-aru," he tried to fix the Japanese with a stern glare, but failed as soon as Kiku met his eyes, quickly feeling guilty instead.

"Then last night, Yao-san?"

"Last night..."

"You screamed like you were being killed. I...I thought..." the accented voice trailed off abruptly and Kiku fell silent, not pushing the issue further. He stared directly at the floor, face expressionless as always. It was almost frustrating, Yao thought with a sigh, not to know what the other man was thinking.

"It's...hard to explain," the Chinese sighed, lazily brushing back his dark hair.

"You were in the army and you were captured," Yao turned quickly to meet Kiku's eyes, bewildered.

"I...uh...how did you...er, aru," he stammered, twitching slightly. "Yes. A lot of us were. I... I survived-aru," Yao shut his eyes and leaned against the wall, trying to distance himself from the actual memories. He wondered why he was even telling Kiku this much. Kiku was just another Japanese sol... no he wasn't. He winced and stole a quick side-glance at the Japanese.

"They wanted information," Yao nodded, sighing when he noticed Kiku glance down at his hands, "I apologize."

"It's fi...no, it's... aru. It's not fine, but it's not your fault. I'm just so... I'm just so tired of this war-aru," he raked a hand through his hair in frustration. He glanced up at the window, jumping as a clap of thunder broke the silence. "I need to... I need to take care of a few things before it starts raining," Yao sighed, attempting to climb to his feet, his back resisting all the way. "Er...Kiku?"

He was instantly on his feet and extended a hand to pull Yao up. "Thanks," he mumbled, grimacing as he was pulled to his feet. "And... Kiku?"

"Hai?" He shifted slightly from foot to foot before neatly tying his hair back.

"I'm sorry, about last night, aru. But thank you. Thank you so much," he was trembling again and his face felt warm. Yao quickly looked down, nervously fingering a few loose strands of hair. "I didn't tell anyone what happened, after. I don't want to. I think I trust you though. Aru." He quickly turned away, hoping that he hadn't said too much. He did babble when nervous, but why was he nervous? He was only talking to Kiku, a Japanese soldier, who seemed to actually-

_Stop it!_ Yao scolded himself, hurrying away from Kiku to make himself look somewhat presentable.

**AN: Thank you for reading through this. ^^ I hope you enjoyed it. Please, review and let me know what you thought and what you think I can do to improve. I love hearing everyone's opinions. **

**Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Hah! Finally updating again. This chapter is a little bit longer, not by much, but I hope it's still alright. Enjoy~**

Swiftly, Yao walked back home. He was glancing over his shoulder with every other pace, praying no one had decided to stalk him. He didn't want to, couldn't look suspicious right now. His heart pounded, and he felt as though his lungs had been replaced with blocks of ice. He couldn't even feel the rain at this point. It... it couldn't be possible, and so soon. How had they... he brought a hand over his mouth, trembling as various scenarios played themselves again and again in his head. His pace quickened as his wood and gray stone house came into view.

"Kiku?" He called as soon as he pushed open the door, closing it with a bit more force than he intended. No one was out now. Good. "Ki... Kiku?" He called again, struggling to control his quivering voice. The Japanese soon appeared, cocking his head slightly to the side.

"Hai?" Yao watched him in slight shock, quickly forgetting the words needed to express what he needed to say. His hands dropped limply to his sides as he observed the raven-haired Japanese, everything from the fading bruise around his left eye to the pale hands that were clasped together. He found himself to be utterly speechless, heart pounding from anxiety and paranoia.

_"Ah, Wang! I've been meaning to ask you 'bout something, since you're so close to the forest."_

"Yao-san?" The accented voice pulled him back to earth, clearing his head slightly. Yao twitched slightly as he brushed back a loose strand of hair. He inhaled, then exhaled, feeling almost better. Almost.

"Er. Um, help me boil water, aru" he mumbled with a quick glance at the door behind him. Kiku nodded, moving aside to grab wood to start the fire. Yao shifted his weight from one foot to the other before following the man.

_"I heard something from Han. He and a few others found a Japanese soldier, alone. Probably a straggler of some sort."_

He leaned slightly against the wall, staring firmly at the ground while he struggled to organize his thoughts. It was almost as if the world was beginning to fall apart, and the pit of anxiety in his stomach was quickly increasing in size.

_"They left him for dead, but when they returned to check on the body, it was gone."_

"Kiku?" He crossed his arms, feeling his heart begin to pound. No, it was useless trying to pretend this wasn't happening. Only a fool would do that. It was foolish and childish to pretend that everything would be alright when clearly that was not the case. He heard the Japanese soldier set the wood on the ground and quickly glanced up to meet his dark eyes.

"Is something wrong, Yao-san?"

_"They told me that when they left him, there wasn't any way he could have walked away. But one can never be sure, yes, Wang? So there's a chance that he did."_

"Do you speak Cantonese?" He lowered his gaze to the floor, struggling to find a solution that would keep them safe.

"I... I'm sorry?"

"A... Anata wa... aiyaa, damn this language," he fumed quietly, quickly beginning to panic. "Neih sīkm̀hsīk góng gwóngdùngwá a?" Raising his gaze to the other's face, he searched frantically for any signs of recognition or understanding.

"Er...ngóh.." Kiku frowned slightly, as if he were trying to remember something. "Ngóh sìk, er, góng... síusíu a. I understand it better than I speak it." Yao clenched his fists and turned so that he could start the fire for the small stove. Figured. One thing that may have helped, and it wasn't much of an option.

_"So Wang, what I'm asking you is, you wouldn't know anything about this, yes? Have you seen anyone near the trees recently?"_

"Yao-san." A pale hand pulled his own back from the steadily burning wood, sending little jolts of electricity up Yao's arm. He flinched, not having noticed Kiku kneeling beside him, feeling the pit of anxiety begin to return. "Is something-"

"Everything's fine," he interjected, with a bit more force than he had intended. He fixed the Japanese with a long, hard gaze, taking in every feature of Kiku's face. A slight increase in pressure on his arm startled him, not having realized that the raven-haired soldier hadn't released him yet. His touch was warm, almost comforting. His face was emotionless, no, stoic, but his dark eyes seemed to pierce through Yao. "Everything's fine," he repeated in a barely audible whisper, almost trying to convince himself that it was true. Kiku didn't seem to be too convinced.

"Yao-san?"

"I need to get water, aru," he said flatly, becoming increasingly aware of the weight of the other man's hand on his arm. It was as if he were falling backwards, as if the world was beginning to suffocate him. He began to climb to his feet, stumbling slightly as his back throbbed in protest. A strong hand moved to the small of his back to steady him. He made to shrug the hand off, but remained where he stood. He turned his gaze back to the raven-haired soldier, regarding him carefully. The young man watched him without emotion, although his dark eyes met Yao's fiercely. It was as if... as if Kiku knew.

_"No, I haven't seen anyone," he quickly lied, having no doubt that the old man saw right through him._

At that moment, fierce roars cut through the silence, startling Yao. His hand almost immediately moved over Kiku's and he remained frozen. Roars, roars that had sounded like machines, from above, from the skies, like...

There was no mistaking the sounds, roars that seemed to drown everything out, that seemed to stop even time itself. Planes. Low flying planes. For the military. For the war. Yao remained frozen in slight terror, unconsciously holding on to Kiku's hand for dear life. If those were indeed planes... he could already picture them almost perfectly. White and green, small enough for one person, with the red reminder of the Japanese on the wings..

In a flash Yao was out the door. He paused just a few feet from his stone house, frantically searching the overcast sky for the planes, but to no avail. There was nothing but the rain and the clouds. In the distance, he could see the various occupants of the village exit their homes to search for the enemy above. The unmistakable roars sounded once more, closer this time, but there was still nothing in the skies that could be seen.

Several meters away, a young woman with an infant strapped to her back turned and shot Yao a fearful glance before looking up at the skies, much like everyone else. He stared at her briefly, suddenly reminded all too much that the war was still ongoing, and it wouldn't end any time soon. Bile rising up in his throat, he grimaced and reentered his house, immediately met with Kiku's uncertain gaze.

"They're probably close," he said flatly, but for Yao there was no mistaking the slight worry in his eyes. Wincing, he nodded, nervously brushing back a few loose strands of hair. In an attempt to ignore the building anxiety, he began to tend to the fire. The burning warmth was a nice change from the chilly air outside, but somehow, he still felt cold.

"It was only a matter of time," he muttered almost bitterly, adding a small plank of wood to the fire. The flames licked the sides of the wood, small sparks flying into the air as the burning wood was shifted.

He felt Kiku kneel to sit next to him and felt a slight pang of guilt. The world was on its way to falling apart, after all, and he was right there, assisting it every step of the way while simultaneously digging a grave for himself. Maybe he had been a fool about this entire situation. He hadn't thought about it long enough, well, he hadn't even thought at all. It wasn't like the others trusted him too well in the first place, and it was only a matter of time before..

He lifted his gaze from the hard floor and stole a glance at Kiku. Perhaps it was for some reassurance. The Japanese met his eyes with less ferocity, although he didn't say a word. The fire continued to crackle as the flames licked at the burning wood. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pale hand add more wood, cautiously shifting the embers.

"Yao-san, why did you ask if I could speak, er..." The accented voice pulled him out of his trance-like state, his attention diverted away from the flames and back at the man kneeling beside him.

"Oh, that," he mumbled with some reluctance as he dropped his gaze to the floor, feeling all the more uneasy. "It... it might be needed." He felt Kiku tense beside him, and he cautiously shifted to face the Japanese, observing the man with another slight pang of guilt. He was gazing at the fire, not at Yao, although his hands were clenched in his lap.

"I've endangered you by being here," Yao winced, lifting a hand to gently squeeze Kiku's shoulder.

"I won't say you didn't, aru," he began carefully, letting his hand relax slightly, "I think... I chose this, and I... I'll take care of you," a light smile graced his features and he shifted somewhat closer to Kiku, feeling both nervous and oddly protective. Something felt different, a good different, but it was almost unsettling. Any sort of fear that he had previously felt around the soldier was practically nonexistent. "Just trust me. They won't find out." His smile widened slightly, a genuine and hopeful smile now. But he couldn't help but wonder how far the locals' mistrust of him went, and that was almost worrying.

**AN: Thanks to everyone who read this. ^^ I wonder sometimes how any of you can even enjoy some of my work, but I'm extremely grateful nonetheless. Thanks for reading, and maybe click the lovely review button and tell me what you thought? Reviews really motivate me when writing slumps occur. ^^ Thanks~**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I went so long without updating and I am so, so terribly sorry. I think I promised someone a week or so ago that this chapter would be up within a few days. Oops.. **

**To be honest, this is the first thing I've written in quite some time that hasn't been a roleplay. I've been roleplaying like mad lately. And tumbling. Oh tumblr...**

**Anyways, I have no excuse for not updating this. But, here it is, and I hope it is satisfactory. I also hope the quality of my writing has increased at least somewhat.. **

**Just so everyone knows, there really are only a few chapters of this left. I probably won't update for at least another month, thanks to NaNoWriMo. Sorry. BUT I am writing some lovely NiChu porn that should be up before November. **

**Thank you to everyone who has been so patient with me, to everyone who has reviewed, to everyone who has read.**

"Have you heard any news of the war, Yao-san?"

The question caught Yao off guard. He looked up knife he had been repairing, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his lips. Truth be told, he had heard very little since the day the Japanese planes had flown over the area, although he had a nagging feeling that the rest of the village knew something that he had not been made aware of.

"I haven't.." he responded quietly, reaching for a nearby rag. Immediately Kiku picked up the rag and handed it to Yao. Their fingers brushed and Yao offered the other a slight smile as thanks despite himself.

"Perhaps they are getting closer." A cold chill ran down Yao's spine at the thought. If the Japanese were heading this deep into mainland China, then it meant that they were losing the war. If they lost, if they surrendered...

He almost couldn't bear the thought of it.

His hand twitched against the newly-sharped blade, and immediately he jerked his hand back, wincing as he noticed small beads of blood collecting in his palm. Scowling, he set down the knife and rag, his other hand searching for another strip of fabric he had set close by.

Another hand suddenly caught his and Yao froze, slowly raising his gaze up to Kiku's, who was pressing the cloth against against Yao's palm. Tentatively, Yao withdrew his hand, looking down at the knife with a slight frown.

He wasn't sure when it happened, when Kiku ceased to be a Japanese solider, an enemy, and just became... Honda Kiku, a quiet, polite young man who seemed to make Yao's little house that much less.. empty. Because that's what it was now. It wasn't just him, living, eating, alone, without anyone he could really speak to. There was someone else there, someone that he was fascinated by, despite himself.

Maybe he had just been alone for far too long.

"Do you need help with-"

"I'm fine," he responded quickly, focusing his attention on his palm rather than on Kiku. It didn't seem as if he had cut himself too deeply, Yao observed as he removed the rag and inspected his palm. In fact, most of the bleeding had already stopped. He made a mental note to be cautious about slicing his hand as he reached for the other rag and began to clean the blade again.

Suddenly, the sounds of jets broke the silence. Yao jumped to his feet, the knife clattering to the ground. Almost unconsciously, he stepped back towards Kiku, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling. It sounded as if the planes were directly overhead, mere seconds from dropping the missiles and the bombs that would destroy them. He needed to go outside, he needed to see how close they were..

But he couldn't move. He remained frozen where he stood, almost paralyzed with fear and terror, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling, wondering with every breath he took if it would be his last.

Then, there was silence, a deafening silence that was almost worse than the roar of the planes above. The jets were gone.. but what was around them? What if there was a group surrounding them at this instant, guns drawn, and-

"Yao-san."

A warm hand suddenly made its way into his, pulling Yao back into reality. He tore his gaze from the ceiling, glancing behind him at Kiku, who was watching him with eyes filled with concern.

It was the most emotion he had ever seen from the other.

Suddenly, he heard someone pounding at his door. Breath catching in his throat, Yao whipped around to face the entrance, quickly stepping away from Kiku.

"Go," he hissed at the man, gesturing wildly with his hands. He couldn't think of any place where Kiku could hide and began to panic as the person outside his door knocked harder and more frantically. This was it, this was going to be when Kiku was found out and they would both be killed and the Japanese were probably already in the area and what if they were in the village...

His hands shook as he approached the door, cringing as the pounding intensified. He couldn't avoid this, he needed to open the door.

Behind him, he heard the sudden _slam_ of the slab of wood covering the entrance to his cellar, and he relaxed slightly despite himself. If it didn't work.. at least he knew that Kiku spoke Cantonese. Maybe it would be believable, somewhat…

Maybe they would see right through him, discover Kiku, and then kill them both.

Well, he doubted that Kiku would be killed instantly. The man was Japanese, he probably had at least some information on the other side, and no doubt the Chinese army would be contacted and Kiku would be taken and have god only knows what done to him…

Yao froze, his hand touching the wood of the door, momentarily seeing red at the thought of Kiku bleeding, being tortured by the Chinese military, dying a painful death…

He growled in the back of his throat and pushed the thoughts away, almost violently yanking the wooden door open. Blinking rapidly, the young man quickly stepped back as the bright sunlight came streaming into his doorway, contrasting sharply with the somber scene outside.

No one stood outside his door, but in the distance he could see that only a single person was out in the village, shouting as loud as he could from the sound of it.

"JAPANESE! JAPANESE IN THE AREA!" Yao heard the young man bellow again and again. He felt his palms begin to sweat, and with a trembling hand, he brushed back a few loose strands of hair, knowing full well what would happen if the Japanese had truly invaded the area. They were dead. Every single one of them was dead. A choked cry sounded in the back of his throat, and he sank to his knees, numbly staring out into the village.

A small hand suddenly gripped his shoulder. Yao started, shifting to glance behind him.

"I thought I told you to go," he mumbled, slowly climbing to his feet and closing the door. Kiku continued to watch him with a slight frown, then reached out to touch his shoulder again. He instinctively shied away from the unexpected gesture, although he found it soothing, almost. Then, suddenly, Kiku let his hand fall to his side, expression hardening.

"I shouldn't be here." The raven-haired man said flatly, lowering his gaze to the ground.

"You should be with your military." Yao tentatively reached out a hand to touch Kiku's shoulder, mentally chastising himself for being an idiot. Of course the other wouldn't feel comfortable being kept hidden like this. Kiku looked up, frowning in confusion, then shook his head.

"They would kill you, wouldn't they Yao-san?" He didn't need to ask to know who Kiku was talking about.

"That's not important," he responded in shaky Japanese.

"I put you in danger," Kiku bowed his head, speaking quickly in Mandarin. He took a step back away from Yao, his gaze still firmly fixed to the ground. Yao took a cautious step towards the other, hand still reaching out to Kiku, dread quickly beginning to fill his stomach.

"I brought you here." Yao's voice was quiet and shook with each syllable. "I made the decision to save you."

"But at the risk of-"

"I KNEW WHAT I WAS RISKING!" He felt as if he were about to cry, hands trembling as he struggled to meet Kiku's dark eyes. "I knew what I was risking," Yao said again, in a voice that was barely audible. His gaze dropped to the floor, shoulders shaking as he struggled to catch his breath. "I wasn't just going to let you die out there, aru. No one should have to die like that, in a strange country. Enemy or not."

".. Yao-san..."

"DON'T," he barked, unable to control the trembling in his body now. "I knew what I was doing!" Yao raised his gaze to meet Kiku's, who was staring back at the other, eyes wide. "This.. this place!" He gesticulated around the room violently, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. "This place isn't my home, Kiku. My home is, was, in Hankau. I left it and came here, alone. Alone! And then I found you, and there was another person here, and you've made everything so much more tolerable!" He sank to his knees again, breathing heavily.

He had often wondered why he kept Kiku around, why he had bothered to save the Japanese soldier. He had always known why, but perhaps he had just never wanted to admit it. Only now was he beginning to realize what exactly he thought about Kiku, what exactly he felt. The sudden realizations were almost frightening, throwing truths and realities in his face that he hadn't wanted to admit or consider.

"I think I need you, Kiku," he breathed, closing his eyes and laughing quietly as he felt the first hot tear slide down his cheek. He doubted the raven-haired soldier had even understood him, most of what he had said being a rapid and broken combination of Mandarin and Japanese.

"Yao-san... I'm sorry," He heard Kiku sigh after a long silence. Yao didn't move from where he knelt, eyes still tightly shut as another tear slid down his cheek. He heard light footsteps move away from him, and he silently at himself to move, to run after Kiku, but he couldn't move, he couldn't open his eyes. He heard the backdoor open, the one that faced the forest.

".. Sayōnara, Yao-san."


	9. Chapter 9

**So.. I guess this is something no one expected to see again? I am so, so, so sorry for abandoning this the way that I did. I decided, thanks to a lovely anonymous reviewer, that I needed to finish this, one way or another. So, here it is. At this point, we probably only have two, maybe three chapters left. And I apologize for this being so short. There will be an update soon, I swear it. **

**Thank you to everyone who is still reading this. **

It had been almost a month since Kiku had left. Yao wasn't sure if he had ever felt like this before. This.. listless, this.. uninterested, apathetic. This empty.

In that month, his small village had seen very little of the Japanese military, much to everyone's relief. Nevertheless, there was that lingering paranoia, the unspoken questions of "What if" that remained on the tongues of the people in the village. He didn't see children playing together outside anymore. People retreated indoors to hold their meetings, to greet each other.

There was no more news about the events of the wars. Their own civil war raged on, Yao knew that much, but he could only assume the same for the war against Japan.

Yao sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the cool, wooden table.

His back hurt more now than it had in a long time..

Sighing, he stretched slightly, wincing as he felt his back crack.

There wasn't much to do now, except wait. But wait for what, he didn't know. Anything could happen at this point. Maybe they had won the war. Maybe they only had hours before the Japanese army destroyed them and left no one alive.

_Kiku.._

His indifferent eyes, pale skin, jet black hair that hung so perfectly around his face...

Yao's eyes shot open. He inhaled a shaky breath, growling and slamming his fist against the table.

He couldn't stop thinking about the Japanese soldier. He even dreamed about him, and had woken up quite a few times, shaken and on the verge of tears.

Sometimes he would wonder where Kiku was now, what he was doing, if he had been reunited with his military, if he was invading other villages, killing innocent people..

Other times, Yao would just wonder if Kiku was dead, or if he had been discovered by the Chinese army and had been tortured for information.

He didn't like to think about that too much.

Either way, Yao knew that he would never see him again, and that hurt more than anything else.

He hadn't even watched him walk out of his life..

A small cry sounding in the back of his throat, Yao pulled back and slammed his head against the table, wincing as his vision flashed white. No, not even that could make him stop thinking about Kiku.

Even though he knew full well that continuing to think about him would just hurt him even more.

"I knew what I was getting myself into," he mumbled, almost as if Kiku could still hear him. He let his eyes close. "I wish I had fought harder to keep you from leaving, aru." He twitched, sighing again.


End file.
